


boy just let me hold you

by notquiteaghost



Series: there is an ocean in my soul [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Verbal Character, Non-binary character, PTSD, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10103990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquiteaghost/pseuds/notquiteaghost
Summary: “Sir, is everything alright? You didn’t skip out on medbay again, did you?”Kenobi shakes hir head, opens hir mouth, then hesitates. Ze makes a frustrated face, and a gesture Cody doesn't understand.“Something wrong with your voice?” Cody guesses, and Kenobi makes another face and a so-so gesture. “Are yousureyou don’t need to go to medbay? You could have been exposed to something on the mission–”In which Obi-Wan is not having a good day, and Cody helps.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **in this fic obi-wan is non-binary and uses ze/hir pronouns, which are neutral & over two decades old**. leave a sarcastic comment about this if you want me to come to your house & scream at great volume continuously for six days
> 
> obi-wan’s experiences are entirely based on my own ([jazz hands] projection!). title is from 'things we never say' by bad bad hats. 
> 
> there's one sentence of mando'a in this; the translation is in the end notes if you're on mobile, it's hover text if you're not.
> 
>  **warning** : implied disordered eating

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not like any other CO Cody’s had, not even among the Jedi. Not only does ze treat the clones like people - asks them their opinions, encourages their individuality, tries to get them all addicted to tea - but ze… _gets_ it, somehow.

Ze mourns, when they lose men.

It’s probably not healthy, really, for Kenobi to be so attached to hir troops. And it’s definitely against the Code.

Not that anyone seems to be paying much attention to the Code lately.

“General?”

It’s late, the day after their latest skin-of-the-teeth victory against Grievous, and they’re back on Coruscant to recuperate. It’s not leave, not officially, but the General tries to get them respite whenever ze can. Hopefully it’ll be a few more days before they’re shipped out again.

Kenobi is sat in the mess hall, for once not orbited by Skywalker or Tano. The 501st hasn’t shared their run of luck, and it’s showing in the line of the General’s shoulders. Ze worries something awful whenever neither of hir young charges are in hir immediate line of sight.

Ze looks up at Cody’s greeting, and smiles tiredly. The lines around hir eyes are tight in a way that usually means ze’s being too stubborn to take painkillers again. Cody wasn’t even aware ze’d been hurt.

“Mind if I join you?” Cody asks, and the General shakes hir head. Cody sits down opposite, transferring the extra serving of soup he’s grabbed to Kenobi’s plate without any attempt at subtlety. Taking care of his General involves less subterfuge than most Commanders have to resort to - Kenobi has no patience for it, not after raising Skywalker. Ze appreciates up-front, blunt stubbornness. It’s a refreshing change from the tricks Cody has to use to get most of the 212th into the medbay. 

Kenobi raises an eyebrow at the soup, most likely because it’s hir favourite and it’s not strictly on today’s menu. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t ask for it,” Cody says. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to get the kitchen staff so wrapped around your fingers.”

Kenobi huffs a laugh, and gestures in the air, a ‘halt’ fist waved in an ‘attack’ signal - the now near-universal shorthand for Skywalker.

“Let me guess; something mechanical broke, and he ignored some important Jedi duty to fix it and everything else in there while he was at it?”

Kenobi grins, wide and fond. It makes hir eyes look brighter. It makes Cody want to–

He drops his gaze down to his food and concentrates on eating. They fall into comfortable silence.

Which is, of course, moments later broken by a call of, “General!” as a trooper Cody doesn’t recognise jogs up to their table. “Sir, General Kloon requests your presence in his quarters, says there’s something you need to discuss.”

Kenobi’s face shutters, the easy relaxation vanishing in favour of a mix of tension and anxiety ze rarely displays off the battlefield. Ze gives Cody something of a pleading look and makes another gesture, ‘reinforcements needed’.

“Tell Kloon that the General isn’t feeling well,” Cody says to the trooper, who glances between them briefly before nodding and leaving the way he’d came. The tension bleeds out of Kenobi the second he’s out of sight. “Sir, is everything alright? You didn’t skip out on medbay again, did you?”

Kenobi shakes hir head, opens hir mouth, then hesitates. Ze makes a frustrated face, and a gesture Cody doesn't understand.

“Something wrong with your voice?” Cody guesses, and Kenobi makes another face and a so-so gesture. “Are you _sure_ you don’t need to go to medbay? You could have been exposed to something on the mission–”

Kenobi holds up a hand to cut him off, sighs, and then slides hir comm off hir wrist, placing it on the table between hirself and Cody and dialling. After a moment, Skywalker appears, looking concerned.

“Obi-Wan? I thought you were on Coruscant, is everything alright?”

Kenobi makes a series of gestures Cody doesn’t understand, but Skywalker seems to.

“I distinctly remember telling you to have this conversation yourself,” he says, sounding that particular brand of fond exasperation only he and Kenobi ever use about each other. “In fact, I think I remember you making me a promise–”

Another series of gestures. Skywalker shakes his head, but apparently decides to let it go, because he turns to face Cody instead.

“Obi-Wan can’t talk sometimes,” he says, without preamble. “It’s not an infection or a virus or a mind-controlling worm, it’s just hir brain. Ze’s always been like this - before the war, even before ze knew me. There are reasons, but they’re not mine to share.”

Cody nods. “Is it triggered by anything in particular? How can I help?”

He looks at Obi-Wan, not Skywalker, as he talks. He knows from experience how unpleasant it is to be talked about like you’re not in the room.

“Stress, mostly,” Anakin says. He’s not translating any gesture of Obi-Wan’s, but Cody wasn’t expecting him to - the Generals know each other better than anyone. “Particularly tough battles, losing people, facing Grievous - you know, the usual fun stuff. And as for helping, just… field people off. It’ll pass, and it’s not exactly a secret in the Order.” He grins, suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eye, “You can tell everyone ze’s sick, then ze has to stay in hir quarters and actually relax for once. Make hir tea.”

“And wrap hir up in blankets and queue up a load of trashy romance holos?” Cody quips, and Skywalker laughs.

“Exactly. Glad to know ze’s in good hands.” He turns back to face Obi-Wan and adds, “We should be home by tomorrow, just tying up loose ends now. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?” He makes a gesture of his own, and whatever it means makes Obi-Wan splutter indignantly and gesture back something Cody needs no translation for.

Skywalker laughs and cuts the connection.

Obi-Wan lets out a long sigh, dropping hir head into hir hands. Cody knows the feeling.

“There’s a sabacc game the men invited me to,” Cody says, an offering, because Force knows Obi-Wan won’t tell him to leave hir alone of hir own accord, talking or no talking. “If I leave now, I could get there before Gutter’s done wiping the floor with everybody.”

But Obi-Wan shakes hir head, standing and gesturing for Cody to follow as ze walks out the mess and towards hir own quarters. Ze’s definitely favouring hir right leg, but getting hir to take pain meds is hard enough when ze’s not had such a bad week it’s robbed hir of hir words.

The soup the kitchen staff had pressed into his hands has barely been touched. Cody doesn’t remember seeing Obi-Wan at breakfast, either.

It’d be really nice if he could have one problem to deal with at a time, for once.

He buses the soup and his own empty tray, then catches up to Obi-Wan, falling into pace beside hir with ease of practice. No one tries to stop them on their way to Obi-Wan’s quarters - it’s not exactly like Cody needs to tell them that it’s not the best time right now. Obi-Wan has certainly looked better.

Hir hair is getting long, falling into hir eyes no matter how many times ze pushes it back. It’s distracting.

When they reach Obi-Wan’s quarters, Obi-Wan gestures for Cody to take his customary seat on the short couch in the corner while Obi-Wan makes for the kitchenette.

Cody clucks his tongue and says, “Uh uh, no you don’t. I’ll make tea, you sit down already.”

Obi-Wan makes a face that conveys perfectly the words ze’d no doubt otherwise have about Cody being the guest and it being no trouble, really, ze’s not that tired. Cody just raises an unimpressed eyebrow and stares hir down until ze gives in and curls up on the couch.

“You’ve got a holo in here, right?” It feels almost unbearably domestic, making tea while Obi-Wan watches, especially with how well he knows his way round Obi-Wan’s basic but serviceable amenities. Especially with the expression on Obi-Wan’s face that’s edging dangerously close to fond.

Obi-Wan waves a hand and a holo floats over from beside hir bed, setting down on the caf table and flickering to life. 

That’s unnecessary use of the Force if Cody’s ever seen it, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not his place to nitpick his CO, especially not about Jedi business.

Having poured two generous mugs, Cody takes them and the teapot over to the couch, placing them beside the holo and himself beside Obi-Wan. It’s not his place to do this either, really, sprawl across his CO’s couch in his CO’s living quarters with not even a cursory nod towards having a professional reason to be there, but a lot of lines have been blurring, lately.

Skywalker risks life and limb for his men. Tano naps on transport ships with her head pillowed on Rex’s shoulder. Kix appears like magic whenever any Jedi is injured, regardless of where his unit is supposed to be.

Cody stares at Obi-Wan over the command hub and imagines kissing the reckless out of hir.

Their fingers brush when Cody hands Obi-Wan hir mug, and the thrill Cody feels at the contact isn’t impossible to ignore, he just doesn’t want to. They feel so far from the war here, like nothing can touch them, and it makes him want to do things. Makes him want to be reckless.

He turns his attention to the holo and prays Obi-Wan doesn’t comment on the flush no doubt staining his ears.

“That Alderaan nature doc okay?” He asks, and Obi-Wan nods, so then he’s losing himself in warm tea and comfortable seating and the narrator’s soothing, knowledgeable voice. This is something of a post-battle ritual already, and the lack of sarcastic comments from Obi-Wan isn’t noticeable, really. 

They’re about an hour in when Obi-Wan pauses the doc and says, voice hoarse from disuse, “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Cody says, immediately. 

Obi-Wan smiles at that, soft and sweet. “No, I know. But I want to.”

Oh. Well, then.

Obi-Wan runs a hand through hir hair, shifts on the couch so hir side is leant against the back of it, hir legs pressed up against hir chest. Hir hand flutters, like ze isn’t actually quite up to talking yet, and Cody is just about to offer up his comm to type into instead when Obi-Wan clears hir throat and says, “So, obviously I have PTSD.”

“Well, obviously.”

Ze grins, wry. “But, it– It predates the war. Significantly. Predates my becoming a Knight, actually.” Ze glances down at hir hands. “My time as a padawan was… eventful, to say the least.”

Cody vaguely recalls overhearing something Skywalker said to Tano once, about how she shouldn’t worry because even the great Obi-Wan Kenobi abandoned the Order once. He doesn’t know any of the details, however, and he gets a sudden sense that they’d make him incredibly angry.

“It started as a defence mechanism - not speaking, that is,” Obi-Wan continues, still staring at hir hands. Cody wants to catch hir by the chin, lift hir head up, but Force only knows what path that would lead them down. “And then it… escalated, somewhat. I have nearly no control over it now. It just… happens.” Ze lets out a long breath and grins again, a bitter edge to it. “It’s ironic, I know - the great Negotiator losing hir tongue so easily.”

“Does it happen often?” Ze’s been Cody’s CO for over half a year, but they’ve only gotten close enough for this kind of conversation, this kind of willing vulnerability, in the last month or so.

“Depends. Sometimes I go months without an episode, sometimes I go a week without saying a word. It’s in the Separatists hands more than my own, now.”

Cody hums an acknowledgement.

“It’s kind of– I never know how to explain it. Sometimes I can manage short sentences, single words, answers to questions - if you asked ‘Do you want the door open or closed?’ I could say ‘Closed’, for example. Sometimes I can sign or write perfectly well, sometimes that goes too.”

“These things don’t tend to make a lot of sense.”

“That’d be too simple, I suppose,” Obi-Wan agrees, finally looking up to meet Cody’s eye. Hir expression is so open, so vulnerable, Cody can’t stop himself pulling the Jedi into his arms. 

Ze makes a quiet, surprised noise, but ze doesn’t pull away.

If anything, ze moves closer.

“I can learn sign,” Cody says, muffled somewhat by how he’s pressing his face into Obi-Wan’s hair.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to–”

“Obi-Wan. I do.” He strokes a hand down the length of Obi-Wan’s back, like he’d do for the cadets sometimes back in training. “I need to be able to communicate with you, especially when you’re hurt or upset, and we won’t always be able to comm Skywalker.”

There’s a long pause before Obi-Wan says, quietly, “No one’s ever offered before. To learn, just for me.”

Cody wonders if Obi-Wan’s master had already known a sign language or if he’d just not bothered. If it’s the latter (and again, he feels like it is), then the Jedi is pretty lucky he’s already dead.

“You should learn Mando’a,” Cody says, instead of any of the innumerable angry things he wants to bite out about the Jedi in Obi-Wan’s life. “Fair’s fair.”

“Tion'ad jorhaa'ir ni linibar bah?”

“For Force’s sake is there a language in this galaxy you _don’t_ know?”

Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully. “My Shyriiwook could use some work, I suppose.”

“I hate you,” Cody says, firmly. A traitorous part of his brain is already spiralling off about the many other things Obi-Wan could say in Mando’a, and he is only one man. There is only so much he can handle. “You are terrible and I hate you.”

And Obi-Wan is grinning at him, immensely pleased with hirself, and ze’s still wrapped up in his arms, and Cody needs to leave before he does something they’ll both regret, like push Obi-Wan down into the cushions and kiss hir hard enough to bruise.

He swallows and twists to face the holo again instead, moving Obi-Wan with him so ze’s curled up against his side. He can’t bring himself to break the contact, and Obi-Wan isn’t making any effort to move either (ze’s definitely touch-starved, no doubt about it, Cody’s walked in on hir and Skywalker and Tano in one big Jedi pile more times than he could count), Force help them both.

Obi-Wan presses play on the documentary, and they lapse back into comfortable silence now occasionally broken by Obi-Wan’s snarky commentary. The rest of the evening passes like that, until halfway through the second documentary Obi-Wan falls asleep on Cody’s shoulder, and Cody gently eases hir into bed before retreating to his own quarters. As much as he’d like to spend the night on Obi-Wan’s couch, he knows from experience it wasn’t designed with sleep in mind, and his back will ache enough tomorrow morning without him helping it along. 

It’s late enough no one else is around to see him pass through the Temple with practised ease, but when he reaches his quarters he doesn’t go to bed just yet. Instead, he grabs a datapad and starts composing a message to Skywalker about which dialect of sign language Obi-Wan uses and where best to start with learning it. 

So acting on the exact nature of his feelings for Obi-Wan is the worst idea he’s ever had. That doesn’t mean he can’t be a good friend. Force knows Obi-Wan could do with more of those.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Tion'ad jorhaa'ir ni linibar bah?_ \- Who says I need to?
> 
> i am [here](http://notquiteaghost.tumblr.com/ao3) on tumblr.


End file.
